Sarina
Prologue "Come out here and face me, monster!" the righteous voice demanded. I yawn, bored with the repetitive display. Every year or so some daring knight or noble paladin comes around to bother me with their challenges. None of them were much of one, I'm afraid. I have an impressive collection of statues to prove it. I call to Nassule, who appears to cuddle up against me. I run my hand down his supple skin, feeling the fine lines each scale made. He's been a constant companion for at least a few decades. I remember the first time I summoned a companion to me. It was not long after the champions of good and honor took my mother's head for a trophy as I watched them from the hiding place she left me in. I stayed by her cold remains for days, not knowing what to do. Somehow, I summoned a serpent that wrapped itself around me and kept me safe while I mourned. Later, the serpent went out to hunt and brought me back an asphyxiated hare. The sight of it roused my appetite. After the meal I left that place to find my own way in the world. The yelling outside brings me back to the present. I suppose I must deal with the pest sooner or later. I wonder how to do it this time. After more than a hundred years of this game, I tire of it. Although I can easily dispatch the single challenger with any number of direct attacks, I prefer the subtler approaches. It gives me no enjoyment to simply turn a man to stone right as I see him; or rather, right as he gazes at me. The game is too simple then. I often take one of them as a plaything, for a time, at least, until I tire of their presence. I smile as I think of the perfect way to deal with this one. I pull my hood over my head, covering my wriggling locks. They settle down, sensing what I want of them. I tell Nassule to keep hidden until I call for him. He slithers away in silence. Casting a simple glamour to give me the illusion of other than my true self suits my purposes well. I leave my home through one of several secret passages. Years of being hunted teaches many lessons. I arrive not far outside of the visible entrance of my home. The man, hardly old enough to be called such, waves a sword about emphatically while he continues to yell insults toward my door. He is not daring enough (or maybe smart enough to know not to) step into the unknown. He appears well built in his armor of shiny silver. But armor will not save him. I smear some dirt on my face and the hem of my robe before stumbling out from the shadows behind the bald cypresses surrounding my home. "Help me, please...." The man spins quickly to face me and levels his sword toward me. I fall to my knees, seemingly from exhaustion. "Please, don't hurt me!" I raise my hands in pleading. He scrutinizes me but does not approach. A cautious one. A challenge. I cannot help but smile inwardly. "They've killed her. They've killed my mother. I'm all alone now." I wail, spinning my tale. He knits his eyebrows and continue to watch my performance, though unaware of the fact. I continue on, giving him every gruesome detail of how these men, armed and armored, butchered my mother. I told him the story of the day I lost her, recreating every moment as I remembered it. I have no need to embelish the truth. He watches me and listens intently, lowering his sword and his guard. I can see the concern in his eyes. He is sympathetic. But I know he will only be too happy to do the same had he been one of those men. He is here now to do the same to me if he could. The only truth I do not reveal is who my mother was; and who I am. He lowers down to kneel facing me, putting his sword away. All he sees now is a beautiful maiden distressed and lost. I play on his sense of chivalry. He hands me his waterskin to drink from. I thank him as I continue to tell him my story. This time, however, I weave falsehoods into it to explain my presence in the swamp. "We were on our way to visit my aunt in Jarath Bay when these... bandits attacked us." He is fascinated and does not notice the inconsistancies in my tale. Nor does he question why a couple of women would venture so far into the swamps, where no one comes; save the occasional adventurer bent on making a name for himself. He does, however, notice my shivering, as well as the thinness of my robe, plastered against my body half soaked from the waters of the swamp where I laid. He reaches into his pack to retrieve a thick cloak and wraps me in it. I use the occasion to lean into his touch. "Please. I've been running all day. And it's so cold out here." I suggest we enter the hut nearby. I sense he is hesistant. Somewhere still in his mind he remembers the danger lurking inside. I plead with him again, still shaking with seeming fear and cold. The hut I live in does not normally look foreboding. I only make it so to ward off trouble at my discretion. Right now it stands plain as can be, weathered but sturdy, even inviting compared to the rest of the swamp. He helps me to my feet and guides me to my own home. The door is naturally unlocked. In fact, I have never had use for one. I cling to him as if he was the only thing between me and certain death. He does not seem to mind. I wonder what pose I want this one to be in. When I first began my collection, most of them were heroic postures, with weapon in hand ready to cause me harm. I grew tired of those. Then came my morose period, when I scared them into various frightened looks before creating the statue. Though the process was entertaining, the end product often did not please my eye. I soon stopped keeping those statues. I retired a good portion of them at the bottom of a nearby bog. Lately, I have been experimenting with artistic poses. Since I have taken quite a few over the century as playthings, when I tire of their company, I have them make various romantic gestures as I preserve them for posterity. My favorite of this genre is the bard on one knee, holding his harp in one hand and outstretching the other toward me, as if asking for my favor. He entertained me well enough for three month, until he exhausted his repetoire of songs about my apple green eyes and golden locks. I have completely charmed this one here. He does not resist as I lead him toward my garden hidden inside a wall of bald cypress trees. I am very proud of my garden and spend hours a day working to make it as beautiful as possible. In the center I made a small lake where water lilies grew. Pickerel weeds and cattails surround my lake, competing with each other for resources. Milkweeds grow in abundance in my garden, their little pink flowers add much needed color to the monotony of the swamp. And of course the garden is where I keep my collection of statues. Some are older than others, indicated by the moss that start to cover more and more of them. He does not see any of it. A pity. Right now, he only has eyes for me. I walk him to an empty spot amongst my collection and place his right fist across his heart. I then place his left hand on my own heart and bid him to stay. He responds to my smile with one of his own. I pull away my hood and end the glamour. For a moment he is bewildered as a look of knowing creep into his eyes. But before the smile can fade from his face, he is mine. Suddenly, I sense another presence. Clever trick, sending this one to his doom while the other waits to catch me unaware. I am not worried. I cannot be surprised by such a crude rouse. I turn to face my next challenger, a female elf in an elaborate dress. She exudes power and arrogance, and not just from the style of her dress. Perhaps I will make her the companion piece to my newest creation. I have few female statues, not because there haven't been any female champions who sought my demise, but because I usually do not waste the tender flesh of young females to make cold dead stone. They are slightly more enjoyable as a deicacy, a rare treat, than as statues. Since this one came with the other, I may make her a companion piece for him. Two person works are rare, for they require much coordination and planning to achieve. My first of such works remains the best. It is of a female cleric and her knight clinging to each other as they faced me. From the way they pressed up against each other, I like to imagine them lovers, although they could very well have just been friends, or mere companions banded together for convenience on their quest to rid the world of me (Nassule did wrap around them rather tightly as they gazed upon me). "Impressive," the female speaks while looking around at my garden, "very impressive." I send Nassule into position behind her and wait for her attempt. "I am Selvera, what is your name?" I am surprised and mildly amused by this, as no one coming has ever given me their name, much less asked for mine. Perhaps I will keep this one for a while to amuse me after all. "I am Sarina." I indulge her for the time being. "I am here to make you a proposition." I listen but ready myself and Nassule for attack. She continues, "How would you like to be rich beyond your wildest dreams and be the ruler of your own city?" Not a very imaginative offer. I raise an unimpressed eyebrow at her. "I have no use for riches or my own city." She is beginning to bore me. Sensing my mood, Selvera asks, "What would you like to have then? I'm sure we can make a satisfactory arrangement." "You have the power to grant me my desires?" I am not easily deceived. Selvera smiles and nods. "Very well, I wish to live in peace. No more of these little intrusions at all hours of the day. Although it does amuse me for a time, I would much rather not have to deal with unwanted visitors in my home." She catches my inclusion of her in my subtle insult but does not rise to the bait. "A simple enough request." After a moment of contemplation, she continues, "Have you ever wondered why you must endure so many unwanted visits from these lowly creatures?" "They are foolish and think they can defeat me." I answer her with no hesitation. "Yes, but why do they seek to defeat you?" Selvera coaxes. I have often asked myself this very question when I was young. "Because I am not as they are. I am different and they have no tolerance for those who are different." "It need not always be so," Selvera proposes. "Together, we can remake the world so that we are the ones with the power to shape it. Then, perhaps, we will no longer be the hunted." "We? I thought the world belonged to those of your kind." Selvera laughs bitterly, "No, I am not an elf as I may seem to you. I am in truth a blue dragon. My kind was hunted and driven away long ago from this world. The elves and humans have no tolerance for me, much as they have no tolerance for you, because I am also different. They fear us because we have power they cannot comprehend or control. Through that fear they seek to destroy us. Join our cause, Sarina. We will forge a new world, a world where you and your kind may live in peace." She persuades in earnest. I think about her offer in earnest. In the world she envisions, perhaps I can walk freely in a city without having to hide behind a glamour. In the world she envisions, perhaps my mother would yet live. "I suppose I haven't anything more pressing to do right now. I grow weary of spending all my time in this garden anyway. Your scheme may amuse me for a time. I shall help your cause, for now." I am careful not to let my interest in her proposal show. Selvera acknowledges my acceptance and hands me a rather heavy looking pouch. "Here are some funds to get you started. You will need to go to Meridia as soon as you can. There will be several other individuals I am recruiting for your team. You will meet them there. I must take my leave now. I hope our venture will prove sucessful." With that, she vanishes. Nassule slithers to me and wraps himself around my waist. I have only been to Meridia once in all of my life. I wonder if it has changed much in a hundred years. I return to my room and pack for the adventure ahead. I pick and choose from the various adventurers' gear in my store room, some of which have not been touched for decades. The process consumes several hours as I try to remember to whom the items last belonged. Finally, I strap a rapier and a dagger on to my belt and swing a longbow over my shoulder. For once, I am the adventurer seeking to change the world for the better. The irony does not escape me. Chapter 1 I meet Selvera again in Meridia. I have chills thinking about the last time I was here. She has with her several others whom she wants me to work with. Our "team" consists of myself, two dragons and a vampire. One of the dragons, dressed as a noble, is rather rude, even for a dragon. He clearly does not see me and the vampire as equals and treats us with much distain. I pay him no heed. The time will come when he learns his lesson, though it may come too late. The other, Victor, seems a strategist and an avid reader; for not an hour into the meeting before he's off to purchase books to read. I never did enjoy reading the words of others. A story is always best told through the living, breathing words... not through dead lines on a page. The vampire, Ezekiel (the name is a mouthful), has lived amongst the humans and elves for a long time. Looking like one of them makes it easy to blend in. He is quite knowledgeable on their affairs. He teleports us to Jarath Bay to bring the plan Victor has in mind (something about hiring thieves and cutthroats to commit petty crimes to sow some seeds of chaos and discontent amongst the people there) to fruition. Jarath Bay is loud and full of people. I do not like it. When night fell, Ezekiel takes me hunting for dinner. It is much different in the city. I do not take Nassule, he is too large and will draw unwanted attention. I also leave my bow behind. Ezekiel assures me I will not need it. We arrive at a dance club where we pick out a sweet looking thing. Ezekiel simply asks her and she follows us into a private room where he has his fill first before I start. It's been a century since I have shared my meal with any but Nassule (though he does not need it, I like having someone to share my meal with). Ezekiel says he does not need more than blood but shared the heart with me. I learned much about life in the city but still long to be in my swamp. After the meal, Ezekiel takes me outside of the city to sleep, as I cannot abide all the noises of the city. I summon Nassule and spends the night in the quiet before we come back in the morning. Chapter 2 I recall all the times someone has knocked on my door, deaths' door, in the name of their god or goddess, and think of a plan for the willing submission of Meridia. Victor and Ezekiel seem pleased and are willing to put the plan to action. The rude dragon noble (who has still not given us his name) is silent, as always. We travel to Traygor to gather a large force of orcs for the plan. Victor proves his mettle when he won in single combat against Kronik, the orc chieftain's son, and secures us valuable allies. For the next two months we travel in orc country and "convince" more of them to join under the Blood Axe banner under their Chieftain Marduk. When the time comes, the army of orcs march upon a weakly defended Jarath Bay. Just outside of town, I am disguised as a male elf wearing golden armor and cape, with a staff in one hand and a book in the other. We stage a light and fire show and have the orcs run away from me in fear. By the time the first scouts for the town arrive I convince them of my status as a harold of the first gods who have bid me to save Jarath Bay from the onslaught of the orcish army. I tell them to spread the news of the return of the first gods. The fools drop down to their knees in abject submission and pray for salvation. I vanish before their eyes, adding to the mystique. The next days are spent establishing our new religious organization, The Second Dawn, into something bigger than I have ever conceived when I first thought of the idea. Since the birth of the organization, I have since donned the appearance of four separate harolds to the first gods: the Golden Harold of Unwavering Belief; the White Harold of Repentance and Humility; the Red Harold of Justice; and lastly, the Silver Harold of Ethernal Happiness (Zek's favorite because she is the only female harold of the bunch). He makes me laugh sometimes with his silliness. After establishing The Second Dawn chapters in Jarath Bay, we travel to Aadri and gain passage to the Temple of Storms with the help of another Dragon, Lady Artana. The temple guardians tried to stop us but Zek took them down in turn (Victor and Nassule helped too). I saw an ancestial site of medusas from 6000 years past. Although there were many statues, few were of much artistic value. We saw one of the people Selvera's journey book warned us about getting too close to, Alyssiah and a creepy little elven figure sitting on her shoulder. After the narrow escape, we return to Aadri under Victor's command. I purchase a new robe but Zek says he likes the old one better. At Victor's request, we met with Roldanth Elensar to inquire about the missing Dragon weapon orbs as well as the Elven weapons. We are heading to the Lost Dragon Isle in search of a portal to another plane where Farion, the weapon held by Lemba, is said to have been found initially. I hope our trip is sucessful. We cannot rely soley on the blind bliefs of the residents of Jarath Bay. I feel we must stage another such event elsewhere in order to spread our influence faster and further. Chapter 3 We arrive at an odd portal that leads us to another plane. Yellow scaled dragons and minotaurs battle each day in a gridlock, neither able to gain ground over the other. Travelling with two dragons, we naturally decided to lend them a hand. After speaking with some officer in command, he tells us of a minotaur shaman healing the wounded minotaurs so that they are able to regroup the next day and attack anew. He wanted us to make sure the wounded did not participate in the next day's battle. We rode until we came to the ward set by, presumably, the shaman, and waited until the next day to begin. I wanted to start that very night but Victor insisted we wait for the battle to begin again the next day before going in to the camp. As we approached the camp after daybreak, we met the minotaur shaman and his tree guardians. They were no match for the power of our group. Nassule had a large meal and had to rest for the rest of the day while he digested. After that, it was easy to lay in wait and pick off the returning wounded minotaurs. Without their shaman to heal them, but instead, getting four predators in their camp, the minotaurs were soon overwhelmed and lost the battle. The yellow-scales caught up to congratulate us on a job well done and set up their new command center at the captured territory. To reward us for our hardwork, they brought out a pretty gold box with some weapon inside. I have never seen Victor so terrified. It was quite amusing. He asked Zek to hide the box and its contents away. Just for that, I took it and opened it to see what could be inside. After all, we did come all this way to find Farion. In the box lay the prettiest bow I have ever seen. It looked to be on fire but was barely warm to the touch. Since no one else had use for it, I naturally took it to replace my own. Not only did it have a name, but it spoke too. When I sensed the sentient nature of his being, I had an interesting chat with him. Apparently he's not too keen about his life as a weapon. I will have to see if I can change his mind. Having retrieved what we had set out to, we take the same portal back to our own world, only to find the abandoned town we started from has blossomed into a thriving center of draconic activity. Lady Selvera greets us and informs us that the few days we were away on the other plane had in fact been five long years in this plane. I worry about the state of my garden. The place must be wild by now... if no one has moved into my home already. How I long for my garden; how I long to be home again. Chapter 4 Apparently, in our absense, Lady Selvera and the other dragons have made good use of our then newly founded organization and its members. Many of them filled positions as guards and other vital roles in Meridia and surrounding cities. It seems the dragons had someone or someones impersonate my harolds during these years so that the faith of these followers never waned. The time nears for the final battle and the return of the dragons. Lady Selvera asks us to choose between convincing the elementals to move a mountain for us, or convincing the giants to join forces with our orc and ogre army. We chose the latter. Vyr (that's the name of our other dragon, as we finally found out) seems to have it in for Victor. I had to convince the giant guards to their city that they were drunk and have no idea what they were talking about so as not to draw attention to our purpose. They were at it all night. It was quite amusing actually. I half expected them to start clawing each others' eyes out at one point during dinner. Dinner, by the way, was rather dry and disgusting tasting. Zek had had to bring me something more tender to sate my hunger. And he taught me to swim! Now I can join Nassule in the bog should I choose to. When we were granted an audience with the giant king, Victor gave another one of his grand speeches. The effect on the giant king was not as favorable as the one with the orcs. Zek and I had to do some quick talking to get the giant king to agree to our terms. Knowing how to speak to him in his own language seemed to have pleased him enough that he finally gave our proposal serious thought. Vyr just wanted to see Victor duel the giant king. Victor was vexed beyond what I have so far seen him to be. Quite a sight, reallly. I find their bickering mildly, if not at times, quite amusing. With the giants united under the orcs and ogres, the vast army marches north toward Meridia. Lady Selvera assures us that the other team she has working for her have convinced the elementals to move the mountains blocking our march to Meridia so that more than a narrow path will open to allow us full access to the city gates. As we arrive at the mountain pass, they lift up and float away. The sight was rather amazing. It seems the other team did almost as well as us. The removal of the mountains gave our army unimpeded progress toward the gates of Meridia. I donned the guise of the Golden Harold to try and convince the guards to open the gates and welcome us. That caused a battle between our faithful followers and the other guards. Before the outcome was decided, Victor received message that he and Vyr were allowed to show their true selves, finally. They were understandably excited and turned into two great black drakes and flew right into the city breathing acid upon the guards. I called Nassule and returned to my own true form while I flew with him to view the scene of their destruction. Soon after, a portal opened above the city from which poured forth hundreds of thousands of blue and black drakes all wrecking carnage amongst the inhabitants, cowering and trembling from fear of the mighty horde from the ground as well as the air. The final battle didn't take long as the dragons and our army quickly put an end to any resistance. Victor took particular care to warn his breathren not to harm our allies and the followers. Touching, but I doubt they heeded him. I watch mostly, from my front row seat in the sky. Oh how quickly these humans and elves are exterminated. I silently revel in their fear and drink in their despair. How the tables have turned this day, when I walk unhindered and unafraid while they are the hunted. I cannot help but smile. Zek is flying by me as he watches as well. I smile at him with almost giddy joy. All of our hardwork come to fruitition. I can return to my swamp and my garden knowing I have helped defeat the mighty human elf alliance of Meridia. Epilogue Well, there goes my agreement with the dragons to be left alone in my swamp. Guess where black dragons feel most at home.... I now have two black dragon neighbors, one at the southeast most corner and the other at the northwest most corner. Vyr has unceremoniously taken residence in a cave system in the southeast of my bog. As if a counter, Victor has claimed a cave in the northwest. He is frequently called to be away on official dragon business and does not stay in his cave much. When he does return, he always brings back more pieces of rare armor and weapons, each with its own fantastic tale, with which he adorns his cave. We then spend the next day or two in the garden while he regales us with tales from his travels. I tend to my garden while he drinks the ale he brings back in barrels with the armors and weapons. Soon he is away again on more official dragon business, though I suspect it's more drinking with Marduk, his orc chieftain friend in Traygor and tracking down legendary armors and weapons. When he is away I sometimes visit his home to keep things looking tidy. Vyr has amassed quite a collection as well, although of a different kind. He invited me to visit him in his cave once. Unlike Victor's human sized cave that is more house than cave, Vyr has made his to accommodate his dragon form, since he distains the use of his human form and only uses it when he is visiting me. The interior resembles a stone mansion with a large room to house all the gold and jewels he has plundered from around Meridia. He displayed them with pride when I was invited to visit; as if I should be impressed by such useless trinkets. I, in turn, invited him to tea in my garden and allowed him a glance in my storeroom where I keep all the items I have inadvertently collected during a century of defending my home from the uninvited. His eyes grew wide at what he saw as my untold wealth. If he had asked politely, I may have allowed him to take what he desired. Alas, a dragon's pride prevents it; and mine would not suffer me to offer unasked. After that visit, I did not see Vyr for many months. He was no doubt away plundering in an attempt to increase his bounty. I care not for such useless displays. When he next returned to visit me in my garden, there was no mention of either his hoard nor mine. Since then, he comes sometimes to sit in my garden. Neither of us speak much to the other, as there is no need to do so. When Victor makes one of his triumphant returns and seeks me in my refuge the two will glare silently at each other before any other action. Victor usually pours himself some ale and begins animatedly on his newest adventure tale while Vyr either sits quietly just out of hearing range, or failing that, returns several days later when Victor has gone away again. As for Ezekiel... he comes as often as time allows, which is nearly every night. Teleporting cuts down the travel time tremendously. Sometimes he will take me into a city to have a bite to eat. Other times we find a deep bog and I practice my swimming with Zek watching over me. I do wonder sometimes what he's actually watching more, my swimming techniques or my submerged body. If nothing else, the lessons have made me trust him even more than before; kind of have to when someone holds the power of life and death over you. Learning to swim feels that way, even if Nassule was always close by to save me. He's fast, but Zek was always faster. One of my favorite pastime with Zek has to be art collecting. We both have a very distinguished eye for art. Often it would be weeks before we could find the right material to work into my particular venue of art, statue creating. But when we did find the right material and the right model, the work becomes so satisfying. With Zek's help, I can finally aspire to more than just the occasional chance piece. I now have the means to create beautiful statues with multiple figures. Our first piece was a modest attempt. He found a couple of very pretty things at the nightclub we frequent in Jarath. After convincing them to come with us to our private studio, a not too difficult job, he had them undress and pose with arms draped over each other lovingly. That was only the first of many such pieces. With the two of us, we were able to manage and create works I was never able to alone. We are working toward a monumental piece with up to five figures. My garden and other rooms have been filling quickly with statues. I have already had Victor aid me in extending some of the underground areas to make more room. I shall have to ask him to do it again when he next visits. Being with Zek is something so entirely new to me that I wake each day with him amazed and in wonder. In the century I lived alone, I have not had anyone willingly bear my company. Those whom I took to amuse or pleasure me never did either for long. I realize now it was because they had little free will. I charmed them into staying their murderous hand and it was rather draining, physically as well as mentally, to keep something intent on doing you harm so close. With Zek there is trust that he will not, at a lapsed moment, lunge at me with a dagger in hand. Perhaps it is also the reason I tolerate Victor and Vyr to each have a small piece of my territory for their own. Though I do not trust them the way I do Zek, I believe there exists mutual respect enough that they will not come burn my house down and plunder my storeroom, not that they will succeed in such a foolish venture. Even they do not know all my secret lairs. The only other person I would show everything to is Zek. I still dread the rememberance of the day I returned to my home. After five long years of neglict everything has grown as wild as can be. I had an awfully hard time getting everything back to how it used to be. I was so intent on the garden I ignored all distractions for a week, including Zek. At the end of the week, he reappeared bearing a large rose bush he called "New Dawn." He said the name was fitting, and the thorny rose bush even more so, to its new owner. That comment made me laugh and we planted it by the front door. It has since been growing steadily to wrap itself around anything that will give it support. Soon, the entire front of my house will be covered with the thorny roses, beautiful and dangerous. Farion remains at rest in my storeroom for now. I hardly need him for much though I do take him hunting for game on days that I feel like working up an appetite. I had to reprimand him the first time I took him hunting for burning my hare to a crisp, making it completely inedible. Since then he has relunctantly and with much reminding not used fire when shooting my dinner. We have had more conversation when I have had time to talk with him. Apparently he savors dragon killing as a pastime. It's no wonder Victor was in such a state of terror at the sight of him. I make sure to keep him locked away when either Victor or Vyr comes to visit. He seems restless at not having anything more powerful to slay. I hope he never will. Zek says he's trouble not worth keeping. I have agreed to let him take Farion to Selvera. Let the dragons deal with what may come, for I do not intent to risk my peaceful life for the sake of something so utterly useless to me.